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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26554558">Perfect Strangers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharpiedoodler/pseuds/sharpiedoodler'>sharpiedoodler</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M, Sibling Bonding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:46:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26554558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharpiedoodler/pseuds/sharpiedoodler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’ll be okay,” One promised, shivering in his rain soaked clothes, “Dad will sort everything out, Three will get better and we’ll be back together before we know it.”<br/>The rest of the siblings glanced between each other, uncertain and scared, but with the naiveté of children, they assumed he was right. None of them even considered the possibility that this would be the last time all seven of them would be in the same room for the next twenty two years.</p><p> </p><p>Or the government takes action when six underaged children begin fighting crime and remove them from the care of Reginald Hargreeves. Twenty two years later, they’re reunited at a funeral after being separated in the foster care system and expected to deal with the Apocalypse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>198</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Funeral</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vanya’s hands shook slightly as she read the letter. Printed in orderly, cursive script is reads, <i>My dearest Seven, it is my pleasure to invite you to the funeral for your late father, Reginald Hargreeves, who passed yesterday morning. <i> The whole letter brought up a pile of unpleasant memories she had successfully forgotten about years ago. A former life that she hadn’t thought about for years.</i></i></p><p>
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</p><p>	Her name had officially been Seven Hargreeves for the first eight years of her life. Even after she’d started going by Vanya and had been adopted by the Withers, it had taken another year for them to update all her documents to read Vanya Withers. Just reading the phrase ‘my dearest Seven’ sent shivers down her spine and made her feel like a little kid, doing everything she could to fit in and being tossed out. </p><p>	Her first instinct is to tear it to pieces. Throw it into a shredder and dump it all into a river. But despite her gut instinct, she just crumples it instead and leaves it in her locker, alongside her sheet music and spare equipment. She'd leave it alone over the weekend to forget about it, so that by the time it was Sunday it would be too late to book a flight.</p><p>	It's really too bad that she finds herself driving back to work at six in the morning the next day, sheepishly apologising to the weekend security guard as he unlocks the door for her. She grabs the invitation, smooths it out and double checks the date, before she buys a plane ticket. She misses Mom, even if she was a robot and who knows, she might just be able to get some inheritance out of the whole thing.</p>
<hr/><p>	Her phone starts ringing as she was in the airport. Her parents have been trying to call her all morning and Vanya has been doing her best to ignore their calls. Telling her parents that she'd be going to the funeral of her former father would complicate everything. She'd rather just nip down for a few days, collect the inheritance and come back without having to deal with the Umbrella Academy ever again. But seeing her brother on the Caller ID, Vanya decides to pick it up, “Hey, Rick. What’s up?”</p><p>	“Mom’s wondering why you aren’t picking up her calls,” Rick replies, “And she’s bugging me about it.”</p><p>	Vanya sighs, “It’s complicated.”</p><p>	“What’s that supposed to mean? Mom’s just annoyed because you were supposed to bring the salad for the barbecue tonight and apparently she wants to make sure you don’t bring potato salad again because—” </p><p>“I’m not going to the barbecue.”</p><p>	“Why not?”</p><p>	“I’m sort of at an airport right now.”</p><p>	“…Why?”</p><p>	“Because my flight is leaving in an hour.”</p><p>	“Flight? What? Aren’t you going to miss rehearsals? Where are you even flying to?”</p><p>	“New York,” she replies after a moment of hesitation.</p><p>	Rick pauses for a second, “Why on Earth are you going to New York?”</p><p>	“Remember my weird former family?” Vanya asks.</p><p>	“…The ones who had those weird powers?”</p><p>	“Yeah, them. Well, Reginald died.”</p><p>	“Who?”</p><p>	“My adoptive father,” she replies, “And I was invited to the funeral.”</p><p>“Shit. No way? He was rich, right? Maybe you got something in the will?”</p><p>	“Hopefully,” she replies, “And my old adopted siblings might be there.”</p><p>“Huh. They’re like you, aren’t they? You know, with the whole breaking glass stuff?” </p><p>	“I think so,” Vanya replies, “I can’t really remember them that well.”</p><p>	Rick whistles a little, “Damn Van, you’ve got a wild weekend ahead of you.”</p><p>	“I’m sure it’ll be a boring funeral. I should be back by Thursday anyways.”</p><p>	“Yeah, yeah. I’ll cover for you with Mom. I don’t think stressing about potato salad and seeing your weird former family together is a good combination.”</p><p>	Vanya chuckles, “Right, the potato salad is the thing that’s really stressing me out.”</p><p>	“Exactly,” Rick laughs, “Call me tonight, will you? I want to hear all about the weird family drama that’s going to go down.”</p><p>	“Family drama?” Vanya rolls her eyes, “Please, we were never a real family. But I’ve got to go, okay?”</p><p>	“Okay, bye.”</p><p>	“Bye.”</p>
<hr/><p>	Her phone dies three minutes into a five hour long flight. Vanya tries to plug her changer in, only to discover that her outlet is broken. Great. Just great. So, she resigns herself to thinking. </p><p>	It’ll be weird to be seeing her siblings again. Her memories of them are all murky, she knows there was seven of them, all numbered one through seven. She can remember One trying to boss them around, while Two argued with him and Five rolled his eyes. Three giggling over stolen makeup with Four. Late nights with Six, reading in the dim light. But she can also remember the loneliness she felt, the feeling of being insignificant. </p><p>	Her whole life as ‘Seven’ feels like a weird dream, sometimes. A made-up life, where she’d been locked away inside a castle with her siblings. An evil father, a robot mother and a monkey for a butler. It all sounds so ridiculous that if it weren’t for the photos, the proof printed into newspaper and her own half forgotten memories, she’d have dismissed it all.</p><p>	But then, she’d been rescued. Saved by the police and social workers, until the Withers had finally heard her playing the violin in the halls of the long term child care facility, a fancy word for orphanage, while picking up their son who’d been volunteering there with the younger kids. Mr. Withers had been a piano teacher and offered to teach her. Mrs. Withers clapped with glee when Vanya had quietly performed her favourite piece by Bach. </p><p>	The first time she’d broken a glass with her music, she’d been certain they’d throw her back into the orphanage. The Withers had both stared at her and the floor covered with shards of glass. Vanya had cried. The next day, they presented her with the paperwork for adoption and asked her to call them Mom and Dad. Little arguments with their son, Rick, quickly turned into the a regular sibling rivalry that felt so much more real than any thing she’d ever had with numbers one through six. </p><p>	The plane touches down hours later, waking her up from her nap. The sky is grey and rainy, nothing like the bright California days she’d grown used to. Welcome home, she thinks, dryly. </p>
<hr/><p>	“Where to, Miss?” the Taxi Driver asks as she climbs into the car. </p><p>	She’s already dropped off her stuff at the hotel that she’s booked for the next three nights, gotten lunch and tried to find some way to delay the inevitable. She’s out of options now and she didn’t spend hundreds of dollars on a plane ticket to not attend the funeral she was invited to. “The Umbrella Academy.”</p><p>	“Uh, I’m going to need something a bit more specific than that.”</p><p>“Oh, right, it’s…uh…” Vanya blushes, “Just let me google it, sorry.” She relays him the address, wondering how in the world she’d managed to forget it in the first place. </p><p>	They drive through the city streets for twenty minutes, before the ominous house comes into view. It’s smaller than she remembers, but much more ornate. She pays the Taxi Driver, before making her way to the front door and knocks. No one answers, so she knocks again, feeling stupid just standing outside a locked door. Maybe she’d gotten the date wrong? Or maybe she's the only person actually planning on attending. Vanya takes a deep breath, before turning the doorknob. It’s heavy, but unlocked and she manages to push it open just enough to let her squeeze through. </p><p>	The entrance hall looms in front of her. Memories flash through her head. Three chasing Two through the hallway, Five jumping off the railings on the upstairs landing but jumping before he could hit the ground, only to end up landing on the couch cushions in the living room. She can even remember finding Four’s unconscious body at the bottom of the stairs, screaming bloody murder and sure that he had died. He hadn’t, luckily, having gotten away with just a broken jaw, but she can still picture the unnatural way his body was sprawled out. </p><p>	“Is someone there?” A voice calls out.</p><p>	“Yeah, it’s me…uh, Vanya.”</p><p>	“Who?” A hispanic man walks out from the living room, staring at her with his arms crossed. He’s got a police uniform on, looking at her suspicious from across the hall.</p><p>	Vanya scowls a little, “Seven,” she adds on.</p><p>	The man brightens, “Oh, Seven. Right. I’m Two, Diego.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Diego,” she replies, sticking her hand out for him to shake.</p><p>	He looks at her vaguely amused, before shaking her hand with a baffled expression on his face, “We’ve already met, you do know that, right? Lived in this shit hole for a good eight years.”</p><p>	Vanya blushes, “I know. Sorry. It just…it feels like a lifetime ago, you know. It all just feels surreal.” </p><p>	Diego doesn’t look convinced, “We used to sneak out of our rooms and into the kitchen at night to eat the chocolate bars Mom would hide. We called them our ‘spy missions.”</p><p>	Vanya’s smile falters, “We did?”</p><p>	Diego’s easy going smile fades, “Yeah.”</p><p>	“Oh.” Well, this was awkward. </p><p>	He nods, “Come on, there’s a few of us in the living room. Maybe you’ll remember one of them.”</p><p>Well, this whole funeral thing is starting off really well.</p>
<hr/><p>	There were three more of them in the living room, a girl and two boys. The girl, Three, sits in an armchair, while the guys sit as far away from each other as possible on the couch. Neither of them look very comfortable. Vanya glanced between them. After twenty two years, she can't really tell which ones they were. Definitely not Six and she's already found Two, so that left One, Four and Five. </p><p>	“Guys, this is Vanya, or Seven,” Diego introduces her. </p><p>	Three glances up, “Seven? I can’t believe it’s you!” She grabs Vanya and pulls her into a loose embrace, but Vanya can't help herself from stiffening up, “Hi.”</p><p>	“I’m Allison now, not Three anymore,” she says with a bright smile, “I’ve missed you so much.”</p><p>	“You have?”</p><p>	“Well, I’ve missed everyone. And you’re included in that, so…”</p><p>	Vanya nods, stepping away a little, “Thanks.”</p><p>Allison frowns a little as she stepped away, but doesn't comment on it.</p><p>	Vanya faces the two boys on the sofa, still trying to figure out who they are, before deciding to risk it. She approaches the dark haired one, sitting with his arms crossed and rock music blaring out of his headphones,“Five?” She ventures, cautiously. </p><p>	An awkward silence fills the room. Shit, Vanya realises, wrong person.</p><p>	“Close,” he offers, her lips curling slightly, “Off by one.”</p><p>“Four then,” she tries again, wishing that everyone would stop staring at her like she's a disappointment. She hated it when they all looked at her, judged her like that, “It’s been twenty years,” she keeps rambling, feeling stupid, “And you both had dark hair, so…”</p><p>“No harm done,” he replies, but his tone is pretty cold, “You can call me Klaus, if you want.”</p><p>	“Klaus?” She jumps on it, “That’s German, isn’t it?”</p><p>	He shrugs, “Maybe,” before he pushes his headphones back into his ear and closes his eyes. </p><p>	“He’s just jet lagged,” the blond guy sitting next to him says, “And I’m Luther, or One,”</p><p>	Vanya nods. She used to always be jealous of One, they all had been. Dad’s favourite and all, “Super strength, right?”</p><p>“That’s me.”</p><p>	Well, this was fun, wasn’t it? They all sit on sofas, awkwardness and tension oozing everywhere. She can’t help but picture their eight year old selves sitting the same way. She wonders whether they’re picturing her like that too. The last time she'd seen them, there had been tears and crying. Hell, the last time she’d seen Three, she’d been convinced that Three had been about to die. And now, twenty years later, they were all just sitting together in the same living room.</p><p>	“Alright,” Diego loudly claps his fingers together, “Funeral time?”</p><p>	“Sounds good,” Vanya seconds, “Let’s get this done with.”</p><p>	“I’ll get Pogo and the robot,” Luther offers.</p><p>	“That’s our Mom,” Diego replies, “Not a robot.”</p><p>They all turn to stare at Diego, incredulously.</p><p>	“Dude, are you on something?” Klaus snarks, “She’s a freaking robot.”</p><p>	“Shouldn’t we wait for the others?” Allison cuts in, “You know, for Five and Six?”</p><p>“Are they even coming?” Vanya asks, “Does anyone of us even know if they’re even still living in the US?”</p><p>	Everyone exchanged glances, shrugging.</p><p>	“Well, you were the last one to talk to them, weren’t you?” Klaus points out, “Shouldn’t you know?”</p><p>	Vanya stiffens. She knows he’s right — it had just been her, Five and Six at the orphanage. And then she’d left. But she shrugs, “I was adopted too. Five and Six were still there when I left.”</p><p>	“Is anyone here?” A small voice calls out from the hallway. </p><p>	“Well, one of them made it,” Allison smiles, “We’re in here!”</p><p>	An asian guy steps into the living room, giving them a small smile,	“Hi, I’m Ben,” Six introduces himself with a small smile. He stands crouched over, like he was trying to make himself smaller. His hands fidget clenching and unclenching around the fabric of his coat.</p><p>From her decade old memories, Vanya can remember that Six had always been a little too quiet and a little too soft compared to the rest of them. At least some things hadn’t changed.</p><p>	Allison, whose apparently taken it upon herself to be one woman welcoming committee, wraps an arm around his shoulders. Or, she tries but Ben sidesteps her quickly, standing next to Vanya instead. He meets her eyes and she tries to smile as friendly as she can, but Ben averts his stare quickly.</p><p>“…Okay then,” annoyance seeps through Allison’s voice, “We’re just missing Five and then we’ll get the funeral started.”</p><p>	“Five’s not coming,” Ben murmurs.</p><p>	Everyone, even Klaus, looks over at him, curiously.</p><p>	“Couldn’t be bothered?” Diego snorts, “Don’t blame him. Five always hated Reginald.”</p><p>	“So did I,” Klaus replies, “If Five isn’t coming, do we split his part of the will?”</p><p>	Luther curls his lip at the comment, but Vanya shrugs. She doubts that any of them really came for just emotional reasons — Reginald had been rich, they were just collecting their dues.</p><p>	“Is he coming late?” Allison offers.</p><p>	Ben shakes his head, his long hair hiding his face from them, “He, um, he died, actually.”</p><p>With those words, the mood of the room darkens. Vanya can see the looks on the faces on all her former siblings. While Ben still looks small, Allison has a comedically tragic expression on her face, while Klaus looks like he hardly cares. And as much as she feels like she ought to be closer to Allison in terms of reaction, Vanya can’t really pretend that she’s very heartbroken about the death of a fake sibling who could have died twenty two years ago. Five is a distant memory, someone she thought she’d never see again and had gotten over years ago.</p><p>“What?” Luther demands, “How? When? How did you even know?”</p><p>	Ben shrinks further into himself if possible, “He just ran away. When we were thirteen, no one saw him ever again.”</p><p>	“If he just ran away, he could be alive,” Allison points out.</p><p>	Ben shakes his head, “Five wouldn’t have that.”</p><p>	“How do you know? From what I remember—”</p><p>	“No,” Ben’s answer is final, “He wouldn’t have left me, not like…” Ben trails off, his eyes landing on Vanya. She drops her gaze to the floor. </p><p>	There isn’t much she remembers of the orphanage. Uncomfortable beds, clinging onto her brothers like they were the only things she had left in the world and a sense of calm that was just overwhelming. But she can remember Klaus leaving, the social worker muttering something about foster care and then it being just Five, Six and Seven. Until it wasn’t, because she left them both. And then, apparently, Five had left Six as well. </p><p>	Vanya holds her hands up, “I didn’t leave, I got adopted. There’s a big difference.”</p><p>	A tense silence filled the room. She can feel Klaus looking at her incredulously, while Allison smiles a little. Ben just glances away. Whatever, Vanya bristles, she hadn’t come here to feel guilty for being adopted. She was here for a funeral and an inheritance, that was it. </p><p>	“Anyways,” Allison puts on a cheerful smile, “We should hold a little service for Five, don’t you think? Maybe we can grab something from his room?”</p><p>	“Sure?” Diego agrees, while the other siblings nodded with him.</p><p>	Klaus scowls, “Oh yeah, that’ll be great. Hey, bro, let’s bury you in the same shit hole house where we were abused as children. What a great way to honour his life.”</p><p>	Vanya cracks a small grin at his tone, but Klaus just shots her an annoyed look. She rolls her eyes — what was wrong with him? </p><p>	“What does Ben think?” Luther proposes, “Ben knew Five the best, apparently.”</p><p>	Ben stares at all of them, clenching and unclenching his fist around his coat, “Uh, whatever you guys want.”</p><p>“Perfect,” Allison nods, “I’ll go to his room, grab something important and then we’ll meet down here.”</p><p>	“And I still need to get Pogo and the robot,” Luther stresses the word robot, while looking at Diego pointedly.</p><p>	Diego scowls, “Shut up, One.”</p><p>Vanya flinches, and she can’t help but notice practically all of them doing the same. It feels like a living memory — the constant arguments, the way they would call each other numbers. How they were ranked against one another. She hates it.</p><p>	“Do you want to go?” Ben murmurs into her ear.</p><p>	“Yes please,” Vanya turns on her heels, Ben following her as they leave the tense living room. </p><p>	They end up in the courtyard, where it's raining but still easily a hundred times better than the situation back in that room. Ben shoots her a nervous grin and Vanya tries her best to smile reassuringly at him. </p><p>	“So,” Vanya tries to start a conversation, like this isn’t the most awkward thing she’s ever experience, “Bad weather, huh?”</p><p>	Ben’s breathing rattles, “It was my fault that Five died.”</p><p>	Vanya’s eyes go wide because wow, this really is not the kind of conversation she’d been trying to start, “It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me.”</p><p>	Ben shakes his head, “Someone needs to know. And I’d rather it be you than the others.”</p><p>	“Why me?”</p><p>	Ben looks a little hurt, “We promised each other we’d never keep a secret, remember?”</p><p>Vanya doesn’t remember, if she’s being honest. She almost wants to giggle at the thought of it — it sounds so much like something a little kid would promise and the idea of a guy her age expecting her to remember something like that is just ludicrous. But Ben seems like a nice guy, so she lies, “Whoops, of course I remember. My bad.”</p><p>	Ben doesn’t look convinced, but he starts talking anyways, “After you left, Five and I went into foster care together. We moved a lot, from family to family. Some of them were nice, some of them…weren’t. This one family that Five and I were staying with were hard people. And it was an accident, but an uncle came over while drunk and he, um,” Ben trails off a little, murmuring something quietly that Vanya can’t hear, before he speaks up again, “And Five told me that he wanted to go back, to before Three got shot on that mission so that we’d have never left the Umbrella Academy in the first place. I told him not to, but I couldn’t stop him. And then he was gone and I never saw him again.”</p><p>	Vanya nods at him, doing her best to stay respectful. It sounds like Ben’s had a tough go at life and even though she might not have been in his life in a long time, she can still emphasise. Who knows what would have happened to her if the Withers hadn’t adopted her? They stand in silence for a little longer, trying to stay flat against the wall to avoid the rain.</p><p>	“Oh, there you two are,” Allison sounds a little annoyed as she walks in front of them, her arms crossed, “We’ve been looking for you guys for the last ten minutes.”</p><p>	“Well, you found us,” Vanya replies, dryly.</p><p>	“Yippee,” Klaus mutters, “Can we finish this up? I’ve got better things to do that stand in the rain.”</p><p>	Allison rolls her eyes, “Just be patient.”</p><p>	Diego joins them shortly after, followed by Luther, the robot and Pogo. Vanya watches them guardedly. She can remember the robot vividly, the way they all called her Mom and how she took care of them when they were little. But she was such a pale, bad copy compared to a real mother. Her real Mom hadn’t had her makeup done at all hours of the day, had occasionally lost her temper and yelled at Vanya and Rick for stupid things, but she’d also gone out of her way to bake brownies at three in the morning because Vanya had forgotten to tell her about the bake sale. She hadn’t been perfect, but that was what had made her so much more real than the pathetic impression of a mother Reginald had created.</p><p>	Only Diego looks happy to see her. The rest of them share glances — no one looks very comfortable with that whole thing. </p><p>	“It’s good to see you after so long, children,” Pogo’s voice echoes around the courtyard, “However somber the occasion.”</p><p>	Vanya frowns at that — was the funeral of the man who’d been insane and had pretty much abused all of them really that somber? </p><p>	“Okay, Monkey Man,” Klaus snorts, “Let’s go already.”</p><p>	Pogo looks at him disapprovingly, “Watch your language, Number Four.”</p><p>	Klaus raises an eyebrow, “Oh? Number Four, is it?”</p><p>	“Unless you have an alternative name you wish me to call you—”</p><p>	“Stuff it,” Klaus almost growls, “It’s Number Four to you.”</p><p>	Vanya watches the heated exchange with baited breath — Klaus isn't going to fight an elderly ape at a funeral, is he?</p><p>	Thank god for Allison, “Moving on,” she smiles, “We’re gathered here today to experience the passing of Reginald Hargreeves and…uh…Ben, what’s Five’s real name?”</p><p>	“Uh, he didn’t really have have one.”</p><p>	“Oh,” Allison hesitates, “The passing of, um, Five Hargreeves.” She grabs a little statue out of her pocket, one that Vanya vaguely recognises from the old merchandise their father kept around the house, “May they rest in peace?” She looks around as if waiting for their approval or not.</p><p>	“Eloquently said,” Pogo comments, “If I may say a few words about your father—”</p><p>	“He’s not my father,” Diego mutters, “He was a bad man and calling him a father is an insult to my adoptive Dad.”</p><p>	“Now, now—”</p><p>	“Because it was my adoptive Dad who named me Diego because Reginald had called me Number Two,” Diego doesn’t stop talking, even with Pogo glaring at him, “I’m here for Five, not Reginald.</p><p>	Vanya nods in agreement, while Pogo looks uncomfortable at the new mood rapidly descending, “We all have our opinions,” he finally says, diplomatically.</p><p>	Allison places the little statue of Five on the ground, “A minute of silence?”</p><p>Vanya shrugs, because hey, why not? It only lasts about five seconds, before Luther lets out a small shriek. Vanya opens her eyes, to see the courtyard bathed in a blue light. Above them, a swirling mass of blue has appeared, shifting violently. </p><p>	“The hell is that?” Klaus yells.</p><p>	“Five?” Ben murmurs.</p><p>	Vanya stares at him for a moment, confused. </p><p>	A second later, they see a boy fall out of it and land on the ground. Vanya’s jaw drops open. There’s no need to guess who this is, because he looks almost the same as the last time she saw him. Little Five is lying on the ground, looking twelve or thirteen years old.</p><p>	“Does anyone else see little Number Five or it just me?” Klaus’ voice sounds slightly rattled.</p><p>	Five glances up, his eyes narrowed as he glances from sibling to sibling, “Fuck,” he mutters, “What’s the date?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Family Dinner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vanya is very aware that her life had never really been the most normal of all lives. Normal kids don’t get removed from the care of their adoptive father because he had the bright idea of making eight year olds fight crime. But still, this feels like it’s a stretch, even for her.</p><p>	Five, looking all of thirteen years old, stares at all of them, still lying on the ground. His eyes are hard and he doesn’t look particularly happy to be here. He stands up, shaking the dust off the oversized suit he’s wearing. He gazes at the building, “Home sweet home,” he muttered.</p><p>	“Five?” Ben’s voice cracks midway through, “You…you came back.”</p><p>	Five turns towards Ben and sends him a grim smile, “Sure did, Ben.”</p><p>	“Enough of this,” Diego waves his hand to get their attention, “Thirty minutes ago, Ben told us you died. Now, you’re not. And you’re thirteen!”</p><p>	“I’m what?” Five blinks a few times, before he pats himself down, scowling as he notices how the sleeves of his suit extend past his hands, “Shit.” </p><p>	“This doesn’t make any sense,” Vanya says, “Why are you thirteen?”</p><p>	Five waves her off, “Time travel,” he says, as if that’s a good enough explanation, “Delores did say I was going to screw up…”</p><p>	Ben moves away from her and towards Five. They have a hushed conversation, the pair of them occasionally glancing around at the others. </p><p>	“Well,” Klaus sighs and crosses his arms across his chest, “So much for getting an extra seventh of the inheritance.”</p><p>	“Klaus!” Allison snaps.</p><p>	Klaus rolls his eyes, “Fuck off, Three.”</p><p>	“Don’t say that to her,” Luther steps in.</p><p>Klaus chuckles, “Is that a threat?” He mocks him, “Oh, Number One, I’m so scared. Are you going to tattle to Dad about me?”</p><p>	Luther scowls, “Just shut up.”</p><p>	“Make me,” Klaus hisses, before he storms out of the courtyard and into the house.</p><p>	The courtyard is silent, everyone watching as Klaus slammed the door behind him. Vanya watches the rest of them warily — should she rebook her flight to tonight? It’s not even five o’clock, maybe she can catch a late flight? No, no, she takes deep breath. All she needs to do is hold out until the will is read and then she can hide in her hotel room until Thursday. </p>
<hr/><p>	Since the whole courtyard debacle, she’s taken to hiding out in her childhood bedroom. The whole thing is relatively dust free and she sits on the bed, feeling the hard springs beneath her. The walls are all blank and the room is orderly, aside from an old violin case next to a stack of worn out books. How many hours must she have spent in here by herself, rereading the same books and practising the same music pieces? She curls her lip, it’s a sad and lonely room for a sad and lonely kid.</p><p>	She grabs the violin out of its case, running her hand over the wood. It’s surprisingly good quality, obviously expensive, not that she would expect anything else from a billionaire. She tunes it, automatically adjusting the strings. It’s horribly out of tune, which makes sense considering no one has played it for twenty two years. Stretching her arm out to hold it, she grabs the bow and begins playing. </p><p>	Music has always been able to calm her down, it wraps around her like a warm hug. She can feel her powers stretching out, wanting to be unleashed. But Vanya keeps a tight hold on them. She might be able to control them, but she’d rather as few people knew about them as possible. Besides, there were only so many vases she could brake before someone would get annoyed at her. </p><p>	“Is that your violin?” Luther’s voice sounds from the doorway. He stands there, awkwardly.</p><p>	Vanya stops playing immediately, lowering her bow, “Luther, hi.”</p><p>	“That was really good,” Luther says, “I’d forgotten that you used to play.”</p><p>Vanya shrugs, “It’s not like I was anything special compared to the rest of you.”</p><p>	Luther looks like he just punched himself in the face, “That isn’t what I meant.”</p><p>	“I know,” Vanya smiles tightly at him, “It’s true though.”</p><p>	Luther doesn’t deny it, but he does look a little ashamed. It’s fine though, Vanya has always preferred tough truths to gentle lies, “I’m going to find Allison,” he says, a little awkwardly.</p><p>	Vanya nods, raising her bow again, “Close the door on the way out.”</p><p>	He nods and does so, leaving without looking back at her. Vanya lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, before he starts playing again.</p>
<hr/><p>	The sound of the supper bell feels like ice down her back. Vanya flinches, frowning when she suddenly realises how hungry she is. Even after twenty two years, her body still associates that sounds with food. It’s more than a little unsettling. </p><p>	She manages to get to the kitchen without getting lost, mostly following her gut. Getting though the house is a bit of a toss up on whether she’ll end up in a corridor with half a dozen locked rooms or in the place she actually wants to be. This time, she succeeds. </p><p>	“Oh, Vanya sweetheart, could you set the table?” The robot asks once she reaches the kitchen.</p><p>	Vanya hesitates, it’s weird being called sweetheart by a fake mother who looks ten years younger than her, but she nods anyways, “Sure.” She doesn’t know how many places to set, since she doubts that all of them actually want to stay for supper, but plays it safe and grabs enough cutlery for all of them. </p><p>	It’s more awkward when she gets to the dining room. Eight chairs, three on each side with two at the heads. Vanya brushes the chair at the end of the table, the same dark chair where she’d sat for eight years. The memories of tense, silence filled meals resonated in her mind. She ends up putting a place for every seat, even Reginald’s, mostly because its such an ingrained habit that she doesn’t realise she’s doing it until it’s done. </p><p>	The robot comes in a little later and places food at everyone’s place. Vanya eyes it with distaste — bland noodles with plain tomato sauce and cut up hotdogs as well as a small side of broccoli. It’s the kind of meal someone would serve eight year olds. </p><p>	Her siblings slowly start coming in and like muscle memory, each sits at their old assigned seating. It’s unsettling, to be sat in the same formation that they used to do everything as a child. Luther and Diego sit opposite to each other on the far end, with Allison and Klaus in the middle, followed by Five and Ben sitting next to her. It’s odd though, looking at Reginald’s empty seat.</p><p>	Pogo appears, looking nearly baffled at the sight of all of them sitting there. Vanya doesn’t blame him — this is bringing back way more than she’d want, “It’s a pleasure to see you all here, children.”</p><p>	Klaus bristles at the term, “Children?”</p><p>	Allison interrupts him before another fight can break out, “Join us,” Allison invites him, “Take Reginald’s seat.”</p><p>	“Oh, no, I never eat with you,” Pogo shakes his head.</p><p>	Vanya frowns. While she doesn’t really remember Pogo as anything more than a monkey butler, it still felt strange to not let him eat with them.</p><p>	“Well you should,” Allison offers, “Sit down.”</p><p>	Pogo frowns, but nods, taking his place at Reginald’s old seat. It’s almost remarkable how much more uncomfortable he looks than the rest of them. They start eating, without anyone saying a word, the same way they did when they were kids.</p><p>	“Do you remember playing footsie here?” Allison interrupts the silence. It feels almost sacrilegious and Vanya can hear her father scolding her for it in her head.</p><p>	Luther grins a little, “Yeah.”</p><p>	Diego huffs, “You used to kick me all the time playing that stupid game.”</p><p>	“He was just playing aggressive footsie,” Allison replies with a smile.</p><p>	“Aggressive footsie,” Diego rolls his eyes, “Felt a lot more like a crowbar hitting my shin.” Despite his angry tone of voice, he’s smiling a little.</p><p>	“Well as fun as this is,” Klaus drawls, “Can we get to the will already, Pogo?”</p><p>	Pogo sighs, dabbing his face with his napkin, “Why don’t we finish our meals? You’ve hardly eaten a thing, Klaus”</p><p>Klaus’ eyes flash angrily, “I thought we had this talk last time. You can call me Four,” he slams his fist on the table. Vanya feels the room shake slightly, her own powers automatically giving power to the sound waves. No one seems to notice, thankfully, although she’s sure she sees Five eyeing his glass of water which now has a few gentle waves it it, before turning towards Klaus with newfound curiosity.</p><p>	“My apologises,” Pogo says, as if he’s just entertaining the stupid notions of children too dumb to think otherwise, “Now, Four, why aren’t you eating?”</p><p>	Klaus scowls, before plucking a hotdog and waving it in the air, “I’m vegetarian.”</p><p>	Vanya frowns a little — Klaus’ whole leather jacket, rock music and piercings don’t really scream the kind of person whose a vegetarian. </p><p>	Luckily, Diego beats her to the punch, “You? Vegetarian?” He laughs, “This is a new one.”</p><p>	“You? A dick? That’s an old one,” Klaus replies, giving Diego the middle finger.</p><p>	“Hey!” Diego scowls, “Take a joke, man.”</p><p>	“Am I a fucking joke to you?”</p><p>	Five and Ben share identical looks of annoyance, while Vanya takes another bite of pasta. At least this time its not her ruining the evening. Pogo looks even more uncomfortable that usual, while Allison was glancing between them, looking worried.</p><p>	“Just stop,” Pogo finally speaks up, “Or should we go back to the old no talking rule?”</p><p>Both Klaus and Diego fall silent, looking at him incredulously. Vanya bristles against it — who did Pogo think he was to scold them like children? But on the other hand, he did manage to shut them up. Five looks mildly amused at the whole thing and even Ben has a small grin on his face. </p><p>	“Why are you vegetarian?” Allison speaks up, “Maybe if Diego understands your reasoning, he’ll stop trying to undermine you.”</p><p>	Klaus scowls, before he mutters something under his breath. </p><p>	Vanya is sure that he said it too softly for anyone to hear, but no one else can feel sound waves like she does. Before she can even think about it, she says, “Did you just say ghost cows?”</p><p>	Everyone turns to stare at her, looking confused. Klaus flushes bright red, regret plain across his face. </p><p>	Diego laughs, “Ghost cows? Seriously?”</p><p>	“Well—”</p><p>	Allison grabs a slice of hotdog, holding it to his ear, “What’s that Mr. Ghost Cow? You’re vowing to haunt us forever?”</p><p>	“Do they say boo or moo?” Ben joins in, his voice a little quiet but still managing to make himself hurt.</p><p>	Vanya giggles, even Klaus has a small smile playing on his lips. Pogo purses his lips, looking uncomfortable with the laughing, but unwilling to stop it to risk Klaus’ anger. </p><p>	“Whatever,” Klaus finally says, though his face is still redder than a tomato, “Can we do the will reading already?”</p><p>“Why the rush?” Luther raises an eyebrow, “Can’t you be sad that Dad has died.”</p><p>	“I’m with Klaus,” Vanya speaks up, “I’d prefer to do the will reading earlier than later.”</p><p>	Five slams a fist on the table, “Why do any of you give a shit about the will?” </p><p>	“Uh, money?” Diego replies.</p><p>	Five rolls his eyes, “Whatever, I need to go.”</p><p>	“Hold on, you need to stay,” Allison speaks up, “We need to figure out what to even do with Five.”</p><p>	“I’m deciding for myself, thank you very much.”</p><p>	“He’s a thirteen year old kid,” Allison keeps talking, “He can’t just wander around the world by himself.”</p><p>	“Yes he can,” Five argues, “And I’m not a kid.”</p><p>“Just because you’re a teenager doesn’t mean you aren’t a kid,” Allison puts her hands on her hips, “I’ve got a degree in child psychology, Five. I know your mind better than you do.”</p><p>	Five narrows his eyes, “I’m older than you can imagine. You have no idea what I went through, Three.”</p><p>	“It’s Allison,” she reminds him, “And we should get you a legal name while we’re at it. Oh no, we’re going to have to through a pile of legal forms to make you a recognised person again, Five. How do you even get a minor who was assumed dead but time traveled eighteen years into the future legally recognised as a person again?”</p><p>Oh no, Vanya realises. That is going to be a literal mountain of legal issues. </p><p>	“How about I just leave anyways?” Five glares at her.</p><p>	“Hold on, wait a moment…” Diego trails off, looking despondently at the blue flash where Five had been standing a second ago.</p><p>	Allison sighs, crossing her arms as she meets the stares of the rest of the siblings, “What? I’m behaving like a responsible adult should.”</p><p>	Vanya looks back at her bland pasta. She doesn’t want to be the one to prod the angry bear. </p><p>	Allison huffs and leaves anyways, her chair dragging loudly against the ground. </p><p>	“Well,” Pogo sighs, “Perhaps we ought to leave the reading of the will until the following morning until Five returns?”</p><p>	Klaus groans, “Really?”</p><p>	“Maybe it’ll be better,” Ben speaks softly, “And we can spend more time together that way.”</p><p>	Vanya looks at him dubiously, “Are we sure that’s something we want to do?”</p><p>	Ben looks back down at the table, “Maybe that old ‘no talking’ rule wasn’t such a bad thing.”</p>
<hr/><p>	Vanya makes her exit from the dining room quickly after that. She’s barely full — funny how a meal clearly picked out for eight year olds will do that, but a half empty stomach feels a lot better than the chilly atmosphere inside the dining room does. She takes a deep breath. Five has disappeared, Allison is having a temper tantrum and she’s a little scared that Klaus will stab Pogo if they spend anymore time together. This whole family is a complete mess. But she catches herself — why does she even care? </p><p>	She can hear everyone milling around the house, going into the living room and she doesn’t really want to talk to them. Vanya sighed, grabbing her cell phone out of her pocket and disappearing into a nearby corridor. She just needs to talk to someone familiar and sane, to let her remember who she really is.</p><p>	Rick thankfully picks up, “Hello?”</p><p>“Hey, it’s Van.”</p><p>“Yeah? How are you?” He asks, “What’s meeting your real family like?”</p><p>“Please,” Vanya scoffed, “You’re my real family. They’re just…you know, it’s hard to describe. Like, we all went through the same fucked up shit together I guess. But I hardly remember them.”</p><p>	“Just teasing,” he replies, “And wanted to make sure that your niece isn’t about to lose her favourite aunt to another family.” </p><p>	“Like I’d ever leave,” she shakes her head, “Trust me, there’s no chance of that. It’s a disaster.”</p><p>	“Shit, really?”</p><p>	“Yeah. It’s like they all remember everything way better than I do. And I thought that one of them was Five, but he was really Four, and I kept screwing up.”</p><p>“Oof. Don’t let them get to you, just get that inheritance, get the money to give me an autograph and get out.”</p><p>	She hesitates, “And I need to ask you something.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>	“So, I found out that one of them died—”</p><p>	“I’m so sorry!”</p><p>	“No, no, he’s alive again.”</p><p>	“…Uh?”</p><p>	“Don’t worry about that bit,” Vanya doesn’t understand what is going on Five herself, she’s not going to try to explain it to Rick, “But I felt fine, like I didn’t even care very much. That’s bad, right? I mean, he’s my kind of brother and I hardly cared that he had died.”</p><p>	Rick takes a minute before replying, “Mom and Dad never told me much about your old home, but it didn’t sound very healthy. Maybe what you’re feeling is normal. I mean, they’re practically strangers, aren’t they? If I heard that one of my classmates from grade four class had died, I don’t think I’d care very much.”</p><p>	Vanya feels a weird sense of relief, “Okay, good.”</p><p>	“Were you two even close?”</p><p>	“I’m not sure,” Vanya replies, “We were little kids last time I saw them. I think we must have been — Ben says that we were close, and he’s close to Five, so maybe the three of us had been close, but I can barely remember any of it.”</p><p>	“Well, you’re feeling okay, right?”</p><p>	“I’ll feel better when I’m back home with a seventh of a billionaire’s inheritance.”</p><p>	Rick laughs, breaking up some of the somber mood, “That’s the spirit! And you’ll never have to deal with those weirdos ever again too.”</p><p>	“Exactly. Just one more day of surviving these crazy people and then I can be back with you guys, my violin and millions of dollars in my pocket.”</p><p>	Then, she hears the floorboard creek close by. Vanya frowns, looking behind her only to see a large shadow against the wall, “Listen, Rick, I’ve got to go. Bye,” without waiting for his answer, she hangs up and walks towards the shadow. It’s clearly a person and she desperately hopes that its only a statue or something, but she doubts it. </p><p>	Instead, Luther stands against the wall, looking irritated. </p><p>	Vanya pales — how much of that conversation had he overheard? “You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”</p><p>	“I did, actually.” Damn Luther for always being honest. </p><p>	Vanya bites her lip, feeling weirdly guilty, “Oh. It was a private conversation, um. My bad.”</p><p>	Luther nods, leaning back against the wall, “It sounds like you have a nice life for yourself back in…uh…”</p><p>	“California,” Vanya fills in, “And yeah, it’s a great life, really. My niece’s third birthday is coming up. It’s supposed to be a blowout, or well, whatever the equivalent of that for a three year old’s birthday party is supposed to be.”</p><p>	Luther’s frowns, “A niece? Does that mean I’m an uncle?”</p><p>	Vanya’s mouth goes dry, “Um, it’s complicated. I mean, I guess technically, since we’re sort of siblings, but…”</p><p>	“It’s fine, you don’t need to placate me,” Luther sighs, “You shouldn’t stay here if you don’t want to. We’re not trying to trap you here. If this family is just a slice of an inheritance to you, that’s fine. But if that’s all we are to you, would you mind leaving?”</p><p>	Vanya feels like something is trying to claw its way up her throat. She’s never been the best speaker, but it feels like there’s a cotton ball in her mouth, “I’m sorry,” she manages to say, “I’ll, um, go.”</p><p>	Luther nods, “Okay. For what it’s worth, it was nice to see you again, Vanya.”</p><p>	Vanya averts her gaze, tightening her grip on her phone, “Okay.” He shoots her a tight smile, before he wanders back into the living room.</p><p>	Vanya spends the next five minutes clenching her stomach. She shouldn’t care this much about Luther asking her to leave. But she can’t deny that it sounds so much like the stuff Reginald would say when she was a little girl. You are not necessary, Number Seven. Don’t distract the others from their training, Number Seven. Go practice your violin, Number Seven. Because he was right, wasn’t he? The whole point of coming here was to get her slice of the inheritance, not to do a weird family reunion. It was stupid of anyone to expect her to have come for that stuff in the first place, why were they making her feel bad for just wanting to claim what was rightfully hers? </p><p>	She sighs. Maybe she should just apologise to Luther and then rebook her flight to tomorrow morning. New York wasn’t doing her any favours and she couldn’t deny how nice it would be to go back there sooner than later.</p>
<hr/><p>	She walks into the living room, where Luther, Diego, Allison and Ben were sitting.	</p><p>	“—And then Reyna just grabs the entire bag of flour and dumps it on the ground,” Diego says, smiling widely.</p><p>	“And whose Reyna?” Allison cuts in.</p><p>	Diego grabs his wallet, shuffling through a few papers before taking one out and showing it to Allison, “She’s my kid.”</p><p>	“You have a kid?” Luther grabs the photo, “Whoa.”</p><p>“Two, actually,” Diego puffs out his chest a little, seemingly caught between wanting to brag about his kids and wanting to be mad at Luther, “Reyna and Isaac. They’re great, you know? Well, I mean yesterday Isaac managed to leave an entire chocolate bar on his car seat and it melted…” From the amount of times Vanya has listened to Rick talk about his kid, she knows that Diego won’t be shutting up any time soon. </p><p>	Allison catches her eye, before she stands up and makes her way towards her, a friendly smile on her face, “How about you? Any little nieces or nephews that I should know about?”</p><p>	Luther glances over at her, but quickly looks away.</p><p>	Vanya stiffens, “I don’t have kids, no.” Even if she did, she isn’t sure she’d really want this group of pseudo strangers knowing about them, “You?” She asks, because she was raised to be polite.</p><p>	Allison shifts her gaze away, “Oh, no. I could never.”</p><p>Vanya cocks her head to the side. For some reason, probably to do with how she was mothering Five so much, she was surprised at how serious Allison’s answer was. Maybe it was a medical issue, “You could always adopt.”</p><p>	Allison’s face flushes, “That — that isn’t the issue.”</p><p>	“Oh.” That serves her right for trying to be a ‘supportive sister’. At least no one could say that Vanya hadn’t tried, “Sorry.”</p><p>	“Don’t say that,” Allison smiles a little tightly, “I just don’t think I’d be able to raise kids, not after growing up in this place.”</p><p>	“Uh, okay?” Vanya frowns — this conversation is quick getting way too personal for her own comfort. Even though she and Allison had reminisced over stupid stuff earlier today did not make them sisters.</p><p>	Unfortunately, Allison takes this as here cue to overshare, “I mean, I didn’t even know what a bedtime story was until I was nine. I thought being forced to only run five kilometres instead of ten was proof that Dad loved us, you know? And I got a degree in child psychology and all the courses said the same thing: how you were raised determines how you raise your own kids…” Allison trails off, biting her lip.</p><p>	“Diego has kids,” Vanya points out.</p><p>	“That’s different,” Allison snaps, “I’m not saying Diego is abusive to his kids.”</p><p>	“How is it different?” </p><p>	Allison crosses her arms across her chest, “It just is, okay? The rest of us aren’t like you and Diego.”</p><p>	“What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>	“Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>	“No, tell me.”</p><p>	Allison hesitates for a minute, but nods, “You and Diego got these fairy tale lives out of this whole thing.”</p><p>	“Well, so did you,” Vanya bites back. Maybe it’s a little mean, but she can still remember the jealousy that had coursed through her veins when she, Klaus, Ben and Five sat at the orphanage and stared at a grainy television screen while Allison giggled and laughed on talk shows. Her arm may have been in a sling and there was always a slight edge to her voice when certain subjects got brought up, but Vanya can still vividly remember watching when Allison’s foster family announced on national television that the adoption had been completed. Her foster father had picked her up and swung her around, while her foster mother bent down to hug her tightly. Vanya had glared at the television that night, before she had gone to bed in the room with two other girls and cried herself to sleep.</p><p>	Allison narrows her eyes, “You don’t know the first thing about me.”</p><p>	Vanya rolls her eyes and stands up. Screw Allison, screw this fake family. She has a real one she ought to return to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked, feel free to leave a comment or criticism.<br/>Also, just to clarify, the reason that Vanya's memories of the Umbrella Academy are half forgotten isn't because Reginald did anything to her, it's all down to her own repression, because being ignored for your entire childhood cannot be good for anyone's mental health, as well as due to the fact that she was 8 when they were taken, which is pretty young.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone, thanks for trying this story out. Let me know what you think etc, I always like to hear back on what people are thinking about my writing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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